It was bound to happen at some point. Although the final version of FreeDarko Presents: The Undisputed Guide to Pro Basketball History doesn't even exist yet, it can now be pre-ordered on Amazon. I don't want it to look like we're trying to get you to buy anything blind. So here's my pitch: If you liked the Almanac, enjoy the prospect of NBA history, and are interested in writing that digs in a little deeper this time around, you'll enjoy Book #2.
The problem with trying to write about my old-new (or is it new-old?) gig at FanHouse? All that comes to mind is cliches, which even when damaged remain cliches. They say you can't go home again, but you can. They say they never really miss you till you're dead or you're gone. Yet cliches, and their bastard derivatives, are true for a reason. So, as they say in Spartacus, it's huntin' time!!!!
I started my professional blogging career at AOL back in 2006, which was also when the sky opened up and this started to look like a viable career for many of us. We were are so young then. That's when I got to know Ziller, Skeets, Matt Watson, Alana G, Nate Jones, and a slew of other talented folks who were part of that early operation, helmed by the indomitable Jamie Mottram. But it was fun like the gold rush was fun, which meant we also worked hard, dealt with growing pains–ours, AOL's, the field's—and drove ourselves into the ground. I bled and cried as much as anyone, which is a weird thought if you know me. So eventually I left for cushier pastures, like when everyone on Deadwood keeps threatening to go back East and take a bath.
As time went by, though, I saw my old friends rise in the ranks. I saw bloggers get the respect they deserved. I saw FanHouse look less like a free-for-all, and more like a German automobile, which I'm pretty sure ruins my Deadwood analogy. And so, after two years away, I'm back starting today. I'll still be a little less nuts than on FD, but they want me for me. I'm reunited with Tom, which means more far-out infographics. Matt's now my boss, but refuses to let me call him "Sir Watson" or "Mr. Livingston". It's good to be back working with the likes of Brett and Nate, as well as folks like Rob Peterson and Matt Moore whom I met in the interim. Producer Randy Kim is someone I share some real world, non-hoops friends with. Ain't that a sign.
Speaking of change, let it be known that Eric Freeman, a.k.a. Ty Keenan, is taking over The Baseline. I think he sent an email to some press people entitled "FreeDarko Sleeper Cell Emerges at Sporting News." This post on first coaching jobs is an early favorite of mine.
He wanted me to call this announcement "Tell your God to be ready for blood," but that was scary. So I've opted for a straightforward title, and this Robert John Wilkins/Rolling Stones quote for the close: "Kill that calf and call the family round/my son was lost but now he is found/'cause that's the way for us to get along". You were just spared a Fat Joe clip, so be thankful and get pumped!!!!!!
Hey, remember when that giant NBA history book came out, written by a writer I've in the past had lots to say about, and I didn't say anything about it? Or maybe you remembered that we're working on our own look at pro basketball's past, and figured "FreeDarko's too scared to speak!"
For those of you who care to hear my opinion on The Book of Basketball, kindly enter THE READING ROOM, where myself, Sherman Alexie, Tommy Craggs, Jonathan Lethem, Ben Mathis-Lilley, and Sam Anderson are talkin' Simmons. Presumably, you recognize all those other names. If not, you can meet new people, and read Sam's opening salvo, on the front page. So far, Sam, Sherman, and myself have posted; in the interest of self-promotion, here's a direct link to mine. We each get two, and are hoping for a lively comments section, too, so bring your Sunday best!
(Your call: Is this A) 9/12 march footage B) my wedding C) proof that we're still secret racists here)
No, we have not all died and gone to heaven. There just hasn't been much NBA to write about, and at this point of the year, the very air around you seems to choke out many attempts to discuss the Association.
All of which is a nice transition into some news about the store: For the time being, it's going to take a little breather. It's a one-man operation, and between the store, a move, a dissertation, and the book, that one man fell a little behind. Those of you who are still waiting on orders, they should be out soon, or otherwise accounted for. Don't hesitate to hit up the FD gmail with questions. We'll be back for the season's start with new product, a more streamlined system, and hopefully, a clean slate with any of you who feel wronged.
Enough with the gloominess. This site will begin to pick up soon, especially now that I don't have a wedding to plan. Strangely, I also think that working hard on the book can at times spur activity on here, at least for me. But rest assured that when you need us most, there will be blood. And for heck's sake, read The Baseline. Unless you want it to fail so I have to do all my writing here for free.
You friend,
Shoals
P.S. Can someone help me explain why Gretzky doesn't defy both my "to be the greatest in sports, you must be a dick" and "only Jordan is the consummate best ever" statements? Thanks.
Some of you may recall the Dwight Howard and Derrick Rose web spots we worked with adidas on. To pass the time this summer, adidas has decided to put some of Big Baby's Dwight Howard art on a shirt.
While the tee's been spotted in the New York store and at this summer's adidas Nations camp in Dallas, there has yet to be an official release. In the meantime, we've been given a limited number to play around with, so here's the special offer: spend $100 or more at the FreeDarko Imperial Outlet, and you'll get one of these FreeDarko/adidas joints before anyone else on your block for one penny. If you want, Big Baby, myself, and any other FD members will sign it for you, too.
Remember, we only have the stock we have, so be sure to check availability before placing your order, unless of course you just feel like buying that Kobe print for the hell of it. Which is always welcome, of course.
Every once in a while, my world stops turning here, but continues elsewhere, meaning that I have one foot in motion and the other at rest. That may make some of you angry, and it's a little awkward for me, but I think it warrants a post in case you don't just love FD for the template.
The big Gatorade gundown: Simple, hella corporate, and yet awakening the competitive spirit I didn't think I had in me. Click on that link and vote for my favorite Jordan moment of all time, so it can end up on a bottle across the nation. For space reasons, they had to cut the part where I suggest MJ finished in this manner to send a message to Bias, who had just had his potential game-winner blocked by Sam Perkins. Not quite the 1992 "eff Drexler" half that Skeet selected, but in the same vein. In case you've never seen it:
At one point, I was thinking of using this web classic:
I've posted it on here multiple times, but what fascinates me is that YouTube has allowed for a rediscovery of early Jordan. This grainy footage of his ninth game, the first time he really exploded as a pro, is quite possibly the most raw example of Michael Jordan, threat to the known universe. And relatively speaking, it might as well have never existed before this video was posted, except as a box score. Certainly, it's only recently that we've been able to drill it into our own heads, to memorize each move and, for me, reassert a past that's quite special in its own right. It's allowed us all to experience a relatively obscure moment as real, even consider it for the canon.
Moving on, the ol' day gig has produced some possible posts of note. I was in a bad mood when I read Dave Berri's "underpaid/overpaid" post, and ended up writing a column about it. Slight slip in terminology notiwthstanding, I think it's a point that had to be made, even if Ziller really hit hardest. I also found out that Berri himself does't think so highly of me, though I suspect he only reads my stuff about him, and might think that everything on FD is by me. Regardless, this blurb is a keeper: "As always happens when I read Bethlehem Shoals, I am left wanting the last few moments of my life back. He generally offers a few personal attacks and then reveals he didn’t quite read what was written."
A commenter suggested that, to paraphrase, I should be sympathetic to Berri because we both look at basketball in an unorthodox way. What do you think?
-Over at Rethinking Basketball, Q. McCall recaps every single conversation we had at the Storm/Mercury game, most of which involved comparing the men's and women's pro games (as style, and product, etc.)
Before the explanation, the announcement. Oh, and read my lame, contrived punchline-fest from yesterday. It gets no deeper.
So the line-up for Blogs with Balls 2.0 is pretty much in place, and the trumpet hath been sounded. It'll be a part of Blog World Expo in Vegas, which will allow me to bask in, or court, that vital (if imagined) crossover demographic. Jesus there are a lot of speakers at this thing. I'm on a panel about resolving differences between bloggers and traditional media, and suspect Amy K. Nelson and I are supposed to pick up where we left off at BwB. Yes, I am talking this up like a pro wrestling event.
The video: USA vs. Brazil at the 1987 Pan-American Games. Pre-doom Danny Manning, the amazing young Mr. Robinson. But most of all, holy fuck Brazil's uniforms are amazing. They are at once futuristic and Naismith-esque, while nearly going so far in both directions that these two opposites collide. Innovative uni design—I'm talking design, not just engineering—is an untapped field of exploration.
This has already been up on Twitter for an hour, so I don't even know why I'm bothering with this announcement. Perhaps I'm just a man of tradition, or the old ways that will never die. In any case, when you gear up for the 2010-11 NBA season, you will be able to do so with a new FreeDarko book by your side. That's right, today we shook virtual hands with Bloomsbury on a follow-up to The Macrophenomenal Pro Basketball Almanac, tentatively called something like The Microphenomenal Companion to Pro Basketball History. For those concerned, "microphenomenal" is even less of a real word than "macrophenomenal."
As the title suggests, this volume will take our zany and introspective take on the game and comb through the sands of time with it. Who knows what will pop up? We too hope to be surprised, challenged, and even occasionally disgusted.
We look forward to once again working with Ben Adams, Carrie Majer, and all the other fine folks at Bloomsbury. We'd like to thank our agent Chris Parris-Lamb, and wish his Jackals good luck in the upcoming NY Urban Professionals League playoffs. And yes, we owe it all to you, the readers, but probably mostly those of you who bought a copy of the first book.
By now, you might have already seen the fruits of FD's collaboration with adidas. If not, behold:
I also want to direct your attention to a couple TOTALLY FD columns I wrote yesterday for The Baseline:
-This Gund/Gray/Bron incident was so shriekingly literary, I nearly considered pitching it like I was a real writer.
-I still agree with this assessment of what Kobe/Melo means, even if last night's game hardly followed the script. That was the most graceful, morally permissible, battle of the titans you could get in the NBA. Also, that game struck me as part-NCAA, part-pros. Don't ask me where that intuition comes from.
Man, this 1979 ASG clip is amazing. Everyone is fucking huge, long, and from a different body era than the 1980's, 1990's, or today. And then halfway through, there's a commercial for that movie where Clint Eastwood befriends a monkey. Sometimes you wish you could live forever!!!!!!
So maybe you heard, today was the first day of The Baseline, the NBA blog I'm doing for Sporting News along with Sean Deveney and Chris Littmann. If this is news to you, I'm sorry it took so long to announce it here. Today was busy and kind of hectic. No, this doesn't mean the end of FreeDarko. I'll be around, though maybe not as frequently as before. And I still would like to keep getting all these excellent guest posts. Before the bemoaning begins, try reading the thing first. You'll find:
So we will all have it both ways and life will improve on all fronts. Here are a few odds and ends:
-Haven't had time to read this exchange all the way through, but I think these guys are saying that Antoine Walker is the Achilles Heel of all of Malcolm Gladwell's recent writing.
-My main man Wingo is unfortunately without television right now, and is watching some of these games on some computer feed. There's a chat room that runs beside it, and he sent me this moving sequence:
10:37bmoreray:Birdman has the runz 10:37crza:lol@ birdflu - very good 10:37xavierhimself:lol.. NEED SOME SMACK COACH 10:37captainsyracuse:he's got swine flu 10:37hrshakoury:birdman is doing lines in the locker room 10:37offshoreorca:i'm getting a little tired of the birdman drugs joke. he came back, that's tough stuff 10:37snoba77218:birdmans gona play great at the half, got ape *** on JJ Barea, and run off naked before the end of this game 10:37kobejaun420club:maybe str. lining speed 10:38aridresi:birdman brought swine flu back from mexico 10:38elephantplatapusdinosaur:yeah Birdman went through a lot 10:38tonefresh25:birdman is goona take a sh*t on dallas fans 10:38gazbin:anybody like nick drakes stuff?
apparantly nobody did, and gazbin was not heard from again...
I'm trying to think about comparatively huge moments in NBA history since FD's inception. For Kobe's 81, we went with a visual pun; there may or may not have been paeans to offer, or perhaps that was just the easiest way to avoid some bullshit "did it matter" debate. LeBron's murder of Detroit prompted a treatise on divinity's arrival. The Warriors upset of the Mavs had all sorts of ideological implications, at least for this site. I would provide links for all of this, but I barely have the wherewithal to type this much. Because at the end of the day, that game last night wasn't about one team vs. another, or individual players defining themselves. It was a long, varied, contradictory, increasingly strange and improbable, and then at the end, almost aimlessly miraculous series of basketball tableaux.
Early on, I was wrestling with my inability to criticize Rondo, from the wild foul at the end of Game Five right through the Hinrich assault. By the end, I'd forgotten all about him, and what seemed to matter most was Tyrus Thomas and Joakim Noah lighting the way to the future as much, if not more, than Derrick Rose had since the first half. And then there was Rose with that block, as iconic a play (and call) as I've ever seen (and heard)—an instant snapshot that set up his rivalry with Rondo way more than dueling stats ever could. In between, you had a stretch of Ray Allen, king, and then John Salmons, the possessed. This was the kind of game that defied narrative, at least the linear kind that works best with sports. What are the talking points? The conclusions to draw? All I know is that, when Rose sent that ball back at Rondo, the dynamic between the two was about so much more, and less, then their respective stories. Or even one team refusing to lose, as Rose put it. That, my friends, is basketball refusing to die, which leads it to contort, exploit, and transcend itself like the history of life on Earth.
Leave the tall tales to mankind. This was about a kind of gnashing, terrible, and magical story that's best explained by Darwin or a particle accelerator. For one day, FreeDarko respectfully, and necessarily, will pass the buck to men less tawdry than ourselves. If such a student of basketball does exist.
A couple other things:
-If you want to catch our most raw (pure?) live-blog ever, visit the Twitter record from last night.
-Another epic looms on the sports horizon: Boxiana has been exhaustively surveying this weekend's Pacquiao/Hatten fight. Here's part three; you are also advised to check out its predecessors. Seriously, I only know about three boxers, and this stuff has me considering dropping coin for this fight.
-Not to scare or shock you, but this might be the end of FD as we know it. I can't get into details quite yet, but in the very near future I will be getting a whole lot more busy. Also, this is my fifth season, and playoffs, writing about the NBA on FreeDarko. That's not to say that I'm out of ideas, or that new reasons to blurt out don't regularly present themselves. But I've got my favorites, my preferences, my blind spots, my theories. Intellectually, I would like to open up this space a little more—and keep a high level of content going, since I don't want to either spread myself thin or too often turn into a pale imitation of myself. In the past, we've had some remarkable guest lectures, from the likes of Dan Hopper, Matthew Yglesias, Brian Phillips, and The Dugout. That's also where we first convinced Tom Ziller and Joey Litman to become recurring members of the team.
What I'm envisoning—and maybe this is hopelessly naive—is an incarnation of FD that is less a blog written by yours truly, more a venue for a new kind of sports writing loosely connected to whatever it is that this site has come to stand for. We're already moving in that direction with the podcast, which as you can see, is only partially me or other familiar names talking into the mic. I do occasionally try and reach out to people for guest posts, with mixed results. Here, though, I'd like to officially open up the floor for submissions. If you have an idea, pitch it. You don't have to have a track record, but it helps. It doesn't even necessarily have to be about the NBA—witness Ufford's ode to Adrian Peterson. But if one of the greatest strengths of FreeDarko has always been its lengthy comments, and our community seems to include an unusually high percentage of good writers . . . well, don't be a stranger.
-Finally, the Rockets. Artest might be the real story of these playoffs, and that makes me happy, but get ready for months upon months of T-Mac bashing. I have given up on defending the man, not because it's impossible, but because I obviously want to end up with a sympathetic view of the man. So instead of embarrassing myself, I'll close with a video of McGrady as I like to remember him. Like Sebadoh said, remember the good times.
Right before the regular season ends, FreeDarko pays cloth-y tribute to Kevin Durant's mammoth sophomore campaign . . . and the relative obscurity he's toiled in. Maybe if we move enough of these, he'll get on national television for 2009-10.
Major announcement to make right about now. Some months ago, the The Disciples of Clyde podcast mentioned the Almanac in an episode on what makes a truly great sports book. We found it sufficiently compelling, irritating, and in some ways correct that we struck up a conversation, stayed in touch, and then came to a momentous decision: We've decided to join forces.
What does this mean? Well, if you were a fan of DoC before, not much will change. Dan and Ken are still the hosts, and will set the tone (which is pretty much in line with what FD's internal phone chats sound like, anyway), hold the editorial reins, and handle production. But if you enjoyed FD on The Sound of Young America, get ready for a regular dose of myself and other FD operatives showing up as featured guests. We'll also have a hand in the musical selections and what myself, Dr. LIC, or Silverbird5000 are coming in to chat about. Also, look forward to guests from inside your computer and beyond, as well as a war of zero forgivance with The Jones.
To get even more nuts and bolts about it, DoC will keep their own site, and post the podcast there, but you'll also be able to find it embedded here. It will also be available on iTunes and in feedy form. Oh, and the official name is "FreeDarko Presents the Disciples of Clyde NBA Podcast," which would be really unwieldy if it didn't sound so much like our book's title. In the future, we'll post music playlists, but we didn't want to busy this post any further. So, without further ado, here's episode 50/1 of FreeDarko Presents the Disciples of Clyde NBA Podcast. Enjoy and remember.
ELSEWHERE:
-I wrote a piece for ESPN on why the Thunder won't make the playoffs. It was hard for me to stare one of my favorite teams in the eyes and say it was doomed to fall short, but instead, I think I ended up with a realistic, yet ultimately optimistic, picture of how the Thunder could move forward while maintaining some of their personality. If you've got Insider, you can check out the Bucher column I'm responding to.
-Intense Shoals Unlimited on the current status of Arenas, and why we shouldn't be sick of him quite yet.
Right now we're taking pre-orders on those, but they should be available in 2-3 weeks. And this is just the first wave: Get ready for some totally original new shirts and more portrait prints in time for the playoffs. The shit you've never seen before. Now, in other news. . .
-I can't tell if this quote from Ray Allen regarding Bron Bron's future is inspiring or deeply suspicious, like he's trying to undermine the kid's career so the Celts have a clear path as they fade. From CBS News:
"Mike paved the way for all of us to open up the endorsement door," said Celtics star Ray Allen, another Jordan Brand athlete. "But the one thing that Mike never was is political. I think in today's era, the NBA player has an even greater podium if he chooses to use it. And with Barack Obama being the first black president, it's a great forum. I think that would separate him from anybody who's done this. ... It's great to be a basketball player, but to transcend sports is a big responsibility. If he were able to pull that off -- if he wants to pull that off -- I think that would set him apart."
First, let's take Ray Ray at face value, since I like the world better that way. And I might be getting confused due to the ol' cut and paste, but—key to this point—LeBron isn't a Jordan Brand guy. He does have the leeway to push, even redefine with an athlete brand means if he feels like it. I think most of us would agree that politics is the easiest way to alienate a bunch of potential consumers. But, while I know Allen is focused on what Obama the FBP can do in office, let's not forget what a marketing sensation Barack was before the election, when through no fault of his own, he created the Nike of politics. Sure, the stances were at times vague, and style may mattered more (or been as much of a statement as) substance. Though there's no denying the fact that Obama awakened something citizen-like in people while offending or boring as few as possible in an election year. If LeBron were to at least give the appearance of political engagement, and of therefore having a constituency at his fingers, that would make him a leader. And then, "brand" hardly seems a sufficient description.
I'm not saying this would be an altogether cynical maneuver. Nor do I think James could realistically call out China at a press conference. But he's got the world's attention, and a team around him that could do some risk-management assessment on what issues he could and could not get near. Maybe this would just turn him into a world-class philathrophist. The Bill Gates of sports. On the other hand, now that (go ahead, bold and attack this statement) so many formerly "black" issues are now publicly acknowledged to be everyone's problems, it's possible to take a stand on public schools, health care, unemployment or housing issues without seeming like a dangerous radical. Sure, Hollywood talks all the time. And yet we've learned to tune them out, question what little authority they have, and wonder why they bother. LeBron James could leverage an entirely new kind of pop culture politics. It would be a risk, but, to follow Ray Allen's reasoning, it would be one hell of a way to get bigger than Jordan and carve out an unmistakable legacy.
All this assumes that LeBron gives a damn. Maybe all he needs is the right mentor to get in his ear. Or to find that one issue where he can afford to take corporate interests. Fuck a petition; could LeBron James have a trade policy, at least when it came to sneakers? Imagine if he got a Nike plant put in Akron. Or, going beyond the usual thirty-second spot, went before Congress and urged them to not leave behind international aid programs. It sounds ridiculous, but then again, so did the idea of everyone wearing Obama all-over print hoodies after Iowa. If Obama was the ultimate feat of politics crossing over into pop culture, why couldn't LeBron—who is a pop culture brand, not just a symbol of athletic excellence—try the inverse?
Of course, none of this happens if LBJ doesn't get invited to the White House a few times, minus a ton of publicity, and with appearance alone laying the gorundwork for both independence and continuity.
First special thanks to a special someone for helping me figure all these new strategies out. They are far less demeaning for everyone involved.
First, the reborn donation box, up in the left-hand corner, looking terrible for the next few hours. This one's simple, if you remember and I remind you enough: If you have to buy books, or CDs, or text books, or staplers, or whatever, go through these links to buy them and we get a cut. It's that simple. I'm planning to some more equally logical choices, and some might disappear, but this is an easy way to make FD pay without extra cost or any kind of weird suspension of sound financial judgment. However, if you prefer the latter, please do hit up the Cafe Press outlet. Made up mostly of shit that makes us laugh. And there's always the shirts, prints and such.
Why should you do this? Because I'm now hunkering down to write about Don Nelson's latest lunacy, and its near-inevitable overlap with Randolph's rise. But you probably already knew that.
There are going to be some major corporate changes around here in the near-future. The ads will be gone, replaced with a more reader-friendly, transparent strategy that basically just encourages you click on a text link to, say, Amazon before doing your shopping. Trust me, it will be unobtrusive and revolutionary. And we've opened our own super-goofy CAFE PRESS OPERATION, in case you want a mug or the un-named item by its very existence embodies the most general sense of "FD." Debate what it is, maybe even buy it. It's a shop, but also a conceptual piece about internet commerce and branding.
This is not an effort to exploit you, or tarnish our good name. Mostly, times are hard, and I'm looking for ways—ideally low-key or hilarious—to maximize the money I can make off of this site while writing for it close to every day.
SOME BASKETBALL: Dwyane Wade is the Monster's Ball right now, whatever that means. What he did to the Knicks last night was both inhuman and inhumane, and yet way-up-in-the-middle-of-the-air radiant. He's like those movies where vampires turn out to like cotton candy and long walks. I know I've been hard on him in the past, but with LeBron having crested for the moment (or at least our discussion of him), Kobe Kobe, and Durant out, it's time we paid some homage to D-Wade. . . with these links other people gave me!
-Ziller is awed by the forceful classiness of Wade's NBA headshot. Since when do they wear suits in these?
-Those band-aids were a major fashion statement, and now they've been. . . BAND! But seriously folks, this look was positively jarring and frivolously assertive, just the kind of thing I've always wanted from his game. I also think these fall more under the Li'l Wayne category of talisman-like adornment, rather than that old Nelly "you know, it just shows I can flip it like that."
-Finally, some wunder-stats courtesy of TZ: "Wade needs 20 more blocks to break the record for most blocks by a 6'4 or shorter player in a season." (SOURCE). Now that's fucking money.
Okay, that sounds a bit too auspicious, like I've gotten that Wall Street Journal column I always wanted.
TONIGHT: Me in Portland. Will brave any and all snow, school delays be damned. Powell's, 7:30, more info at Blazer's Edge.
EVERY SUNDAY: Second Sporting News column, this one a work in progress that caps off the week while looking forward without too obviously rehashing previous posts. Please read and comment on this first go so they believe it's succeeding.
Will get you guys a real post Tuesday. In the meantime, feel free to indulge all your Amare fantasies in the comments section. That sentence begs the question of whether Amare is indeed, in all possible senses, basketball porn.
Way before FreeDarko was born, Big Baby and I used to do the occasionally sports-themed "column" for The Philadelphia Independent. In honor of the Super Bowl, here's one of them, about the NFL's best taking on a team of "inanimate objects." Click on it, it will grow, and then a magnifying glass will appear to aid your journey.
A few other items:
-FD now on Twitter. We don't quite know how to use it, I keep deleting things, and it's a lot less likely to sound right, but it's a nice distraction. And by all means, call us out for this stuff in the comments section right here.
-The Love of Sports interviews the double-oop team, and catches them in the act of another.
-I don't ordinarily recommend very young, very rough blogs that have nothing to do with sports, but anyone interested in politics should keep an eye on this one, by an old friend who also happens to be a true Movement OG. His first post may be about Obama and race, but there's new stuff there. Honest. I'm trying to help him clean up the look a little.
(Supposedly O.V. Wright's son. Spend a day trying to figure it out, once you've solved the Russell Westbrook Challenge.)
Not that I ever really feel like I'm a part of the NBA, but these last two weeks, I've definitely been hovering above it all, occasionally swooping in to either scavenge or dent my beak on the sidewalk. But soon this will all be over, and I will be reduced to that monk-like state of poring over games, rumors, and box scores as if my ka depended on it (or ba, who fucking knows).
But the purpose of this post is one last book tour announcement: Tonight, at Sugar Lounge in Red Hook, we'll provide running commentary on the Bulls/Knicks game, until everyone gets too drunk, we run out of things to say, and the whole thing deteriorates into a celebration of basketball in its least pure form. Hope you can make it!
IF YOU LOVE ME YOU WILL FIND A WAY
We'll probably post some audio/video from our other stops as it becomes available, because some of them were pretty good. For now, here I am appearing on the CBC program Q, discussing the subject of THE COMEBACK in sports and pop culture. My segment's about halfway in, I'm badly tired and have a cold that makes mics trembles. Might be some food for talk in here.
doesn't even exist yet, it can now be pre-ordered on Amazon. I don't want it to look like we're trying to get you to buy anything blind. So here's my pitch: If you liked the Almanac, enjoy the prospect of NBA history, and are interested in writing that digs in a little deeper this time around, you'll enjoy Book #2.
